Her fingers crossed between the needles
the ball rolling down the feet
she would knit with more warmth than the wool
to protect many who were yet in cradles
it would wrap on random skin she would not know
but did she care?
she knew that winter was harsh
and that her dead skin would show.
with no price tag attached
she would sell in the market
her love knitted in yarns
the malls are bright no doubt
but you would not find this lady there
though it shall be full of crowd
Too good
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